


Failed Attempts to Kill the Undead

by blacktofade



Category: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Genre: Forced Orgasm, Hate Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/pseuds/blacktofade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abner hunts down Casimiro and Finas with the intent to kill them and ends up as the filling of a delicious vampire sandwich.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failed Attempts to Kill the Undead

He’s been following them since Third Avenue; there’s no way Casimiro can ignore the smell of him and the sound of a steady heartbeat above the noise of their footsteps. He glances across at Finas, who nods almost imperceptively, and realises he’s not alone in his observations. It’s dark, but Casimiro knows he has the upper hand; even with only one eye he can see more than any mere human can. Without a word, Finas steps away, crosses the empty street, and begins heading the opposite direction; Casimiro slips up a side alley and waits.

The man looms at the end of the path, as Casimiro feigns a look of surprise at suddenly reaching a dead end.

It all happens rather quickly as the man rushes forward, throws him up against the brick wall, and pins him there with a cocked shotgun under his chin, ready to blow his brains to kingdom come.

“Oh no,” Casimiro says in a bored voice. “I’m trapped. You’ve finally got me.”

The man practically snarls at his impertinence.

“What makes you think you have the right to speak, vampire?”

It’s then that Finas reappears at the man’s back, gently tapping his shoulder before ripping the gun from his grasp and tossing it into a nearby dumpster.

“I could say the same for you, hunter,” Finas rebuts, his accent clear and crisp. Casimiro laughs at the look on the man’s face; surprise with a hint of fear and a whole lot of fight lying in wait.

Easily, Casimiro steps forward, almost toe-to-toe with his attacker, and catches him under the chin, tipping his face up into the faint glow of a streetlight.

“What’s the mask for?” he asks. “Scared of a few germs?”

“It’s to keep disgusting blood-suckers, like yourselves, from infecting me with your filthy disease.”

He roughly pulls his face away from Casimiro’s grasp – that is Casimiro _lets_ him slip free – and hunches his shoulders, ready to throw a punch.

Casimiro just laughs. “Disease, huh?” He looks away for a moment, smiling to himself before he dips down, his voice low and says, “human, if we wanted to turn you, a ridiculous mask like this wouldn’t stop us.”

To prove his point, he rips it off the man’s face before he even has time to react and struggle, tossing it behind his back without a thought. He then grabs the man by the throat and lifts him bodily off the ground, flaunting his inhuman strength. Gurgles escape from the man’s open mouth as he attempts to breathe, but it isn’t until Casimiro throws him backwards, letting a couple of trashcans break his fall, that he’s able to gasp in unsteady breaths.

He jumps to his feet and attempts to hold his ground, but Casimiro just laughs.

“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”

In a blink, he vanishes, quickly turning to his bat form before flying over the man’s head and switching back to his human-esque self. He taps him on the shoulder once to get his attention then wraps an arm around his neck, tightening until he begins to struggle.

“Just remember: you brought this upon yourself by looking for us.”

Casimiro jabs him with a sharp punch to the side that doubles the man over and makes it easy for Finas to catch him under the elbow and drag him back towards the main street. The man’s silent except for a few gasping breaths as he tries to catch the wind that’s been knocked out of him, and in that time, they manage to lead him down the road then into the entranceway of a block of old apartments. They don’t chance the stairs, instead they wait for the elevator, keeping tight grips on the man’s upper arms as he sways and begins to attempt to break free.

“You should probably wait for the next one, love,” Finas says to a mother and her small child who begin to follow them into the cramped space. “Our friend here’s had a bit too much to drink and is feeling a bit sick.” She pulls a slight face and nods, tugging her son away from the closing doors.

“I hope you’re ready to talk, boy,” Casimiro says as he presses the button for the fifth floor.

“I’m no boy,” the man whispers in a deathly cold tone.

Finas smiles and huffs a small laugh as though he’s missed the punchline of the joke. “Compared to us you are.”

“Compared to you, I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

“That’s just semantics.”

The man struggles again, attempting to kick out, but Finas yanks on his arm, popping his shoulder out of place and leaving him breathing heavy in pain.

“Settle down,” Finas says and Casimiro sees the way the man watches the numbers blink as the elevator speeds upwards, his chest heaving with unsteady gasps. When it finally reaches their destination, Finas flicks the man’s shoulder back into place and they drag him down the hall, his legs hanging behind, refusing to work as he slumps forward seemingly boneless.

The apartment they enter is small, built for only one or two people and the decor leaves something to be desired. They dump the man in the centre of the livingroom and watch him catch his breath.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Casimiro begins, spreading his arms out wide, showcasing the place. “Now, we can do this the easy way, where you stand up right where you are like a good little boy and keep your hands to yourself, or the hard way, where I tie you up and my friend here snaps your wrists,. I wouldn’t suggest the latter choice as you could hardly stand him playing with your shoulder.”

The man lifts himself off the ground, shrugging off the hand Finas places on his arm, but doesn’t attempt to run; he apparently has more sense than Casimiro gives him credit for.

“Excellent decision,” he says facetiously. “We have some questions for you and it would really be in your best interest if you answered truthfully. I suppose we should start with niceties; what’s your name, hunter?”  
The man shifts, his stony expression unwavering, and Casimiro can tell he doesn’t want to divulge the information. He tilts his head up, staring down his nose at the human and smirks.

“Do you have any idea,” he asks, keeping his voice low, “how it feels to be one of us? I suspect you don’t, but I can change that for you in an instant.”

He brings his own wrist up to his mouth and cleanly pierces the skin with his teeth, letting his almost black, undead blood seep out. He pulls away and drags two fingers through the mess before holding them up and wriggling them mockingly.

“How ironic would it be for the hunter to become the hunted?”

“Abner,” the man says suddenly. “Abner VanSlyk.”

“That wasn’t so hard now was it, Mr VanSlyk?”

He licks off his fingers and wrist, casually healing himself as he goes, before wiping his hand on his pants and holding it out. “Name’s Casimiro and that there is Finas, though I suspect you already know that don’t you?”

Abner eyes his hand as though he’d rather touch molten lava from a volcano; Casimiro isn’t exactly surprised, so he drops it back to his side.

“Of course I do,” Abner snaps. “I don’t get hired by the big name bosses by being a slacker.”

“What else have you learned?”

“Well, thanks to you dragging me into your house, I now know where you hideout, I know where you sleep during your hours of weakness, and I know that I _will_ kill you both.”

Casimiro laughs and looks towards Finas.

“He actually thinks we live here.” He turns back to Abner and shrugs. “I’m more than two centuries old, if you think I haven’t picked up a few tricks along the way, you have another thing coming. See, this house belongs – or should I say _belonged_ – to a dear old Mrs Terrence, who just happened to be our dinner two nights ago. Poor thing had no relatives, so she has to rely on the neighbours smelling the stench of her decomposing body before she gets a proper burial.”

Abner strikes out, however, Casimiro catches his fist easily and twists it harshly, forcing Abner to fall to one knee.

“I would advise against doing that again, unless you really want to find out what true pain feels like.”  
His voice is low and leaves no space for argument. Abner tugs his hand back and stands once more, a look of defiance on his face, which makes Casimiro laugh; Mr VanSlyk has much to learn and he can’t wait to teach him.

“You’ve been studying us. Today isn’t the first time you’ve followed us, is it.” It’s a statement not a question and Abner apparently has enough sense to pick up on it. He keeps his mouth closed and his gaze locked on Casimiro. “Is that what you are, Mr VanSlyk; a voyeur? Is that what you get off on?”

Abner’s lips thin and he knows he’s getting to him. It’s a sweet, sweet victory.

“I can’t speak for Finas, here, but I for one like a little gamble, and what’s a gamble without a bit of danger? Not for me, of course. For you.” Abner looks wary, his shoulders hunching as if ready to fight. “The thing about us, Mr VanSlyk, is that we don’t always stay true to our word, but today, for one night only, we’ll promise you that you will walk from this room unharmed, as long as you don’t do anything stupid to change our minds. The catch, though, is that we’re going to see how far we can push you, because you look like someone who needs to discover just what kind of man you are. Now my bet is that you’ll be one of the easiest men we’ve broken. Finas?”

“He’s got fight, Cas,” he replies as he hooks a finger under Abner’s chin and tilts his face up, earning him an animalistic growl and a sharp snap of teeth. He closes his fingers around Abner’s throat and easily cuts off his air for a few beats, making Abner scrabble at his hand with futile tugs. Finas lets him go and leaves him gasping for breath as he says, “But he’s still just a human. He’ll fall like the rest of them.”

“Mr VanSlyk? Would you like a say in this?”

“No, because – ” he snaps and Casimiro cuts him off.

“Great!”

He reaches out, grabbing a hold of the scarf around Finas’ neck, and tugs it free in one long swish of cloth.

“Cas,” Finas says voice laced with warning.

Before Abner can ask what he’s planning on doing, Finas grips his hands behind his back and Casimiro wraps it around his lower face. Casimiro looks up, but doesn’t stop as he forces the fabric into Abner’s mouth and ties it behind his head, just tight enough to pull Abner’s lips into a smile.

“It’s not your best one, Finas; I’ll buy you another tomorrow. One that isn’t covered in human slobber.”

Abner mumbles behind the scarf, voice muffled and unintelligible, which just makes it easier for Casimiro to ignore him.

“Let’s have a test,” Casimiro, begins above the noise Abner makes. “If you pass, we’ll let you go. If not, you’ll have to deal with the repercussions. All you have to do is not give in to desire.”

Abner shuts up and stops struggling long enough to shoot Casimiro a look that says _as if I’d give in to it in the first place_ , then starts up again, mumbling low consonants behind Finas’ scarf.

Casimiro smiles at Abner, revealing his fangs as he carefully runs his tongue over them. “How much do you know about these puppies? ‘Cause I get the feeling you think they’re only for our benefit. I’d like to personally let you know that you’re so very wrong.”

He leans forward, dipping in towards Abner’s neck, and watches as the muscles shift and tense under the pale skin. Abner struggles valiantly in Finas’ grip, obviously afraid that Casimiro will try to turn him, to which Casimiro turns his head slightly.

“A deal is a deal, Mr VanSlyk. I shall not kill or turn you. Not yet, anyway.”

Carefully he presses his open mouth to Abner’s throat and sinks his teeth in with practiced precision. He effect is almost immediate as Abner twists and bucks forward, letting out a muffled noise that Casimiro knows can’t be anything other than pleasure – though maybe also surprise. He bites down further for just a second before releasing him and closing the wound with a quick swipe of his tongue.

When he steps back, Abner’s eyes are glazed, his whole face pliant, even as he pats him, gentle and patronising, on the cheek before dragging the scarf out of his mouth, over his head, finally throwing it behind them.

“Just what I thought,” he says, a smug, satisfied smile on his lips, “Weren’t expecting that were you? See, what’s the good in making it hurt? No one wants to fight with their dinner, so why not make it something they want, something that _makes_ them want. That’s what’s going to make this so much easier for us, Mr VanSlyk, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re going to want it and that’s going to drive you crazy for the rest of your measly, mortal life.”

With that, he darts forward again, carelessly digging his teeth into Abner until he feels the other man slump back against Finas’ chest in pleasure. He feels the exact moment Finas lets go of his arms as a hand comes up to the curve of his head, fingers twisting into his hair and tugging roughly; Casimiro knows Abner’s too far gone to fight properly, but the fact that he’s still trying coils low in his stomach. He licks up the blood that flows from twin puncture marks, swallowing mouthfuls of liquid that tastes of nothing but arousal, before pulling away and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

The effects of Abner’s blood are instantaneous. He feels strange warmth under his skin and his cock twitches heavily; he’s falling for the very same desire he teased Abner about, but as he glances down, noticing Abner’s tented trousers, he smirks and knows he’s not alone.

“Sorry,” he says, the falsity of his tone obvious. “You didn’t pass.” He grazes his fingers over the front of Abner’s trousers and lets him shift against them. “What do you think, Finas? Should we let him re-sit the exam?”

“Does he deserve a second chance?” Finas counters, to which Casimiro laughs.

“It’s not like he’ll pass it. I just want you to taste how delicious he is. All that hate inside him makes his blood so wonderfully acidic.”

Finas dips his face in to the untouched side of Abner’s neck and gently bites down, only just breaking the skin before sucking hard enough that Casimiro can see Abner’s skin shifting under his mouth. The only thing that keeps Abner from sinking to his knees, too boneless with pleasure, is Casimiro stepping forwards to sandwich him between his and Finas’ chests, slipping a thigh between his legs for an added extra. Abner leans his weight against him and drops his forehead to Casimiro’s shoulder, mouth barely touching his skin, but his lips are parted and his breath is for too warm for its own good.

“We might need some help, Mr VanSlyk,” Casimiro says quietly, pressing his nose into Abner’s shampoo scented hair. “We’re not the warmest of people; no pumping blood, y’see? Just this sticky dead stuff. Makes it a bit hard to get it up, so that’s where you come in.” He shifts just enough to drop his mouth to the patch of neck Finas isn’t working on and scrapes his fangs over the thinly stretched skin below, drawing a faint bubble of blood to the surface. He licks it away and leans back to meet Abner’s eyes, glassy and unfocussed. “You’ve got more than enough fresh blood for the three of us, don’t you think?”

The man who was once aiming a shotgun at him in an abandoned alleyway is gone, left only is the shell of him, the basest of his desires, sending soft keening noises from his mouth and not much else. There’s no fight in his body, his muscles slackened, limbs heavy against Casimiro, but it’s exactly how he should be, exactly how they want him. They’ve had it planned for weeks now, almost as soon as Abner started following them around at night, his footsteps loud despite his apparent carefulness. For Casimiro, it’s about teaching Abner who holds the power in society, because it certainly isn’t men who are paid far too much for shoddy attempts to kill the undead. Finas is there because Casimiro wouldn’t let it be otherwise.

He nods to Finas around Abner’s neck and together they draw their mouths away and begin to lower Abner to the floor, the carpet sinking under their knees.

“This will be the best _and_ worst night of your life, Mr VanSlyk,” Casimiro breathes into his ear, darting his tongue out as he draws away to flick heat against his skin. Abner shivers and makes a vague noise as Finas places him in a kneeling position, his arms barely holding him up when he tips forward slightly. Casimiro watches as Finas’ fingers disappear around Abner’s waist, but he’s more than happy when he sees Abner’s trousers and underwear slipping down his thighs. Lifting one leg, then the other, Finas firmly tugs everything off, so sharply that Abner’s shoes slip off in the process.

Finas lowers his mouth to the dimples of Abner’s lower back, pressing his lips against the skin without letting his teeth mar it, and Abner presses back, silently asking for more.

“He’s ready,” Finas murmurs, lips gently grazing Abner and tugging quiet noises from his mouth. Casimiro crouches by Abner’s head, curling his fingers around his chin, tilting his head back until he’s forced to look at him.

“The only problem, Mr VanSlyk, is that these effects don’t last forever.”

Even as he says it, Abner’s groans begin to turn into growls, his eyes focussing and glaring pure hatred at Casimiro. Before Abner can lift himself up to throw a punch, Finas digs his teeth into the tender skin of Abner’s waist and Abner slumps forward again, this time his elbows collapsing and sending him sprawling into the carpet with his just hips in the air.

“Luckily,” Casimiro croons, gently stroking one hand across Abner’s smooth shoulders, “I will never tire of seeing that done to you.”

He moves away, watching only briefly as Abner’s eyes slip shut, his face lax and free of tension, and searches the room for what he’s looking for. He finds it on a side table, one cluttered with a bowl of nail varnish and two or three loose nail files. He holds the bottle in front of Abner’s face, letting his eyes open and dart over its label, before tossing it back towards Finas.

“A lotion for aging skin? I figure it can’t hurt, can it? We’re certainly not getting any younger, right Finas?”

“Speak for yourself,” he retorts as he slicks his fingers, trailing them slowly where Casimiro can’t see, but has no problem guessing, as Abner’s fingers bury into the carpet and his breaths come out as low whines. Then there’s nothing but vulgar noises and Abner gently rolling his body against Finas’ hand.

“I think he likes that,” Casimiro says softly, swiping his thumb over Abner’s bottom lip, encouraging the way he opens his mouth and sucks it inside. It’s only moments later that teeth, which were just nibbling teasingly across his skin, dig deeper, pressing marks into his flesh with the clear intent to hurt. Casimiro quickly tugs his hand free, gripping Abner’s jaw in an unyielding hold as he dips down and brings their mouths together, his teeth tugging at Abner’s lip until he tastes blood and the other man melts against him. Abner’s mouth is loose and wet, his tongue flicking lazily along Casimiro’s own, stray gasps and groans vibrating their way around Casimiro’s teeth.

When Abner bites his tongue sharply, he almost thinks it’s because the effects are wearing off again already, but when his eyes snap open, there’s no doubt that Abner’s still feeling it. He draws away from his mouth and glances over Abner’s shoulder in time to see Finas pull back and slam into him again.

“A little warning next time, Fin? Almost lost my tongue,” he glances down at Abner, whose mouth is still slack and open in invitation, “which would be a damn shame for some of us.”

Finas grunts something that might be a curse, but Casimiro’s attention is once again focussed on how he can get Abner to make more noises around his tongue because they never sound more satisfying than when they’re from an unwilling mouth. He can hear Finas rocking into him, can feel each movement as Abner lolls against him, and nothing gives him greater pleasure than when he nips at Abner’s lips once more to keep him subdued and a choked-off word follows his mouth as he pulls away.

“Please,” Abner grinds out and, _fuck_ , if it isn’t the best thing Casimiro has heard all week.  
“Please, what?” he asks, tone mocking, but he doubts it registers for Abner.

“ _Harder_.”

“You hear that, Finas? The boy wants it harder.”

He doesn’t even need to watch Finas to know that the snap of his hips turns sharper, firmer, he can hear it in the way Abner pleads with a god Casimiro doesn’t believe in.

“Your god has no say in the matter,” he breathes into Abner’s ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth before digging one fang into it. “Bargains with the devil might be accepted, though.”

He moves his lips to Abner’s neck, trailing kisses and licks and bites down his skin, along the curve of his shoulder, and he finds himself tensing as Abner’s hand twists into his hair and holds him still, letting him worry the skin under his mouth until it’s red and bruised.

“Hold him up,” Casimiro orders and Finas quickly wraps an arm around Abner’s front, tugging him up and back until he’s flush against Finas’ chest. In the new position, Casimiro finds himself free to slide his mouth down Abner’s chest, tugging sharply on one nipple with his lips and teeth. Abner bucks forward, the impressive erection he sports nudging against Casimiro’s thigh, and Casimiro strokes it once, just enough to draw a dribble of pre-come from its head and a loud moan from Abner’s mouth. He likes it more than he’d care to admit when he bends lower and sinks his teeth into the hollow of Abner’s hip, blood flowing freely while Casimiro swallows it down, the thrum of a heartbeat fresh across his tongue.

Abner’s cock twitches, bumping against his throat, and he really can’t deny that all he wants to do his wrap his lips around it and suck Abner off for all he’s worth, which is precisely what he does. The noise Abner makes is exquisite and completely worth the effort of trying to capture Abner in the first place. He tongues around the head, tasting the warmth that drips from it, and Abner rolls against it, his fingers winding further into Casimiro’s hair. As he sinks lower, swallowing down more of Abner’s length, Abner tightens his hold and Casimiro knows the effects are wearing off, giving back agency to him, even as Finas rocks into him.

He thinks briefly about scratching his fangs at the base of Abner’s cock, but even he isn’t that cruel. Instead, he pulls his mouth off with a gentle _pop_ and moves back to Abner’s hip, slipping his teeth into the mark already there. He holds for longer this time, tonguing at the puncture wounds, making Abner’s hips twitch and jolt under both his and Finas’ grasps; his fingers untangle from Casimiro’s hair and warm palms drag around his shoulders instead.

“Don’t let him struggle,” Casimiro says quietly as he returns to Abner’s cock, feeling the reassuring weight of it across his tongue, and he can’t help but notice the way Abner pushes further into his mouth almost accidentally; Finas no doubt has his fangs buried in his neck. He smiles around Abner’s length, sliding his mouth down until he can’t reasonably take anymore, and lets Abner thrust, hips rocking gently as though he cares enough not to try and choke him.

Finas breathes louder above them, his deep voice muffled by Abner’s throat as he murmurs words that sound like praise. The way Abner jolts into his mouth tells him Finas’ thrusts are becoming more erratic and needy, his body close to coming, but what says more is the way one of Finas’ hands slides around Abner’s waist and his fingers curl into Casimiro’s hair. Casimiro covers his hand with his own and he listens to the way he moans and grunts his way through his orgasm, pushing Abner so hard into Casimiro’s mouth that he almost topples backwards.

He keeps his mouth on Abner until Finas’ fingers untwist themselves and slip away from his head. He pulls back, letting Abner thrust into thin air, while he briefly glances up at Finas.

Finas pulls out, chest heaving and cheeks flushed with imitated life, and Casimiro thinks nothing of rising higher on his knees and slipping a hand behind his head, tugging his mouth down to his own. Finas’ lips are warm and sticky with blood, his tongue quick as it slides between his lips an instant before he pulls away.

“Later,” Finas murmurs and Casimiro agrees, kissing him again quickly before letting him go. He takes Finas’ place behind Abner and stares down at the man who seems to be coming out of the daze. Finas appears to spot it already as he pulls one of Abner’s wrist roughly up to his mouth and bites, drawing a noise from Abner as his arm falls heavily back to the floor as though void of bones.

Casimiro flicks open the fastenings of his own trousers, pushing them only far enough down his thighs that he can tug his aching cock free. His hands tremble with anticipation as he slips two fingers back inside Abner, pushing Finas’ come deeper into his body; the quiet hitch of Abner’s breath is the only response, even as Casimiro tugs them free again.

Casimiro sits on his heels and pulls Abner back towards his chest, holding his own cock in a steady grip as he guides it to Abner’s entrance, slipping easily inside with the help of the slickness Finas has left. He curls one hand over Abner’s shoulder, the other around his hip, pinning him in place with strength Abner doesn’t fight against. Finas slides his fingers through Abner’s hair, spiking it with the damp sweat on his palm, before flattening it all back down again, his eyes bright as he watches Casimiro sink all the way inside him.

“One of the best we’ve ever had.”

“No argument from me,” Casimiro says between hitched breaths as he slowly begins to thrust his hips. He listens to the way Abner gasps, watches how his sensitive body twists under him, and he really can’t think of a better way to spend his night; Except maybe draining Abner’s body after, but he’d rather he live with the knowledge of what they’ve done to him.

“We do like to see satisfied customers, Mr VanSlyk,” he begins, slowing his hips to a leisurely roll, “and we know you won’t forget us. Every time you’re hard you’re going to think of us, you’re going to think of everything you’ll never have again, and hopefully, you’ll learn your lesson and won’t go snooping after anyone else. What do you think, _Abner_?”

Abner just groans, his hands moving backwards to grasp at Casimiro’s thighs to pull him further into him, while his head drops forward onto the floor.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice low and inhuman.

He speeds up once more, pushing into Abner with such force that the slap of skin is almost deafening; he’s sure Abner will have carpet burns on his face by the end of the night. Just another reminder, he thinks, as he watches Abner writhe under his hands. It’s only a matter of thrusts before Abner’s writhes turn to sharp, angry twists as he tries to break free, but it’s all too easy to pin him down and continue the leisurely pace.

“Aren’t you enjoying it?” he asks as he angles his hips differently and makes Abner’s body jolt in response. Abner digs his fingers into Casimiro’s thighs with enough pinching force that Casimiro feels the skin break under blunt nails. He hisses, but the flare of pain only makes him buck deeper and harder into Abner. Neither of them bites him to turn his limbs to jelly; Finas lounges in front of them on an overstuffed settee, his body in a relaxed slouch, and Casimiro keeps a hold of him, curving around his back to lean down and brush his lips over Abner’s ear.

Abner attempts to jerk away, but with his face pressed against the ground, he can do nothing more than spit obscenities at him.

“Is this what your kind does?” he growls, breathing heavily, and Casimiro just flicks his tongue out, dragging it lazily around the shell of his ear. “Drug people then have your way with them?”

“You’re the hunter, aren’t you meant to know the answer?”

Abner manages to pull one arm forward, throwing his elbow back quickly and knocking Casimiro in the face. Casimiro catches it and twists it behind Abner’s back until he’s gritting his teeth in pain.

“You know what happened last time,” he drawls, tugging Abner’s arm until his shoulder’s almost at the point of dislocating, but then he dips down and bites Abner on the soft inside skin of his upper arm. When Abner’s curses turn to half-formed moans, he lets him go and continues thrusting, his movements becoming sloppy and out of rhythm as he nears the end.

He reaches under Abner’s body, tracing his fingertips along Abner’s erection, knowing he still hasn’t come and it’s with a smirk of amusement that he once more pulls his hand back and lets Abner drip pre-come onto the carpet.

“No,” Abner whines, trying to grab Casimiro’s arm to place his palm back where he most wants it, but Casimiro smoothes his fingers through Abner’s hair and shushes him quietly.

“Not yet,” he demands and is pretty sure the only reason Abner doesn’t throw him off and take his cock in hand is because he’s so far gone, not of his right mind.

It’s with that thought that he finds he cannot control his thrusts any longer and he bites Abner between the shoulders one last time to keep him subdued before he throws his head back and lets the pleasure run through him.

He comes with his hips flush against Abner’s body, jerking as the orgasm rolls through him and it’s with a heavy sigh that he eventually pulls out of Abner’s slick body. Abner makes a noise of protest, hands shooting backwards, attempting to pull Casimiro back into him, but Casimiro swipes them away with his arm and sits back on his heels to tug his clothing back into place.

“That’s not my problem,” he says evenly as he rises from the floor; Finas follows his lead, leaving Abner naked, skin sticky from sweat and blood and come, at their feet.

“We had a deal,” Abner tries and Casimiro laughs.

“The deal was not to hurt you and I think you’ll find we kept our word.”

Abner stares up at him, his hand wrapping shamelessly around his own cock as he strokes himself, shifting his hips up into the tight circle of his fingers. When he comes, Casimiro sees the exact moment his body slips out of the effects of his last bite, his eyes focussing and his face darkening with humiliation. He remains kneeling on the floor, spunk covering his hand and stomach, while his chest heaves with uncaught breaths.

“Wasn’t so bad, was it? We’re all still alive and you’ve learnt a valuable lesson.”

Abner’s so pale he looks as though he’s about to vomit and Casimiro takes a step back to protect his expensive leather shoes.

“I think that’s our cue to leave, Cas,” Finas says, stepping around Abner as though he’s nothing more than trash to be ignored; he pauses at the door and waits for Casimiro to walk slowly to his side.

“It was nice meeting you,” Casimiro calls back sarcastically. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around.”

Abner twists his body to face them, his teeth bared as he screams, “next time I see you, you’ll be dead!”

Finas smirks at Casimiro and finally opens the door.

“You set out to kill us this time, Mr VanSlyk, and look where that got you.”

They don’t wait around to see Abner’s reaction.


End file.
